Chapter Eight
Aubrey
Noah’s legs bounced nervously as they left the grocery store parking lot. Whatever had been said on the call didn’t seem to be good. Bree felt a surprising desire to reach out and comfort him. She didn’t like seeing his seemingly unflappable self flustered. She reached out and rested her hand on his arm gently.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Bree asked, concern lacing her voice.
“I need—would you mind if we stopped by the hospital on our way out of town?”
Anxiety filled Bree’s chest as she hesitated. She didn’t want him to know about Jess. Not yet.
Noah noted her response and exhaled a ragged breath. “Never mind. I’ll drop you off first.”
“No, it’s over an hour back to Rhodes. It would take you forever, Noah.” Bree said quickly. “If you need to go to the hospital, let’s go. Is everything alright?”
“That was Theo. The hospital called to let me know that Mrs. Garcia fell and was taken to the hospital. She—she is like a second mom to me.” Noah said, running his hands through his hair in agitation.
“I’m her emergency contact. I need to go check on her. Make sure she’s okay. But I can take you back first.” Bree’s heart broke a little as worry lined Noah’s eyes, and his attention flitted back and forth between her and the road in front of them.
“Noah, let’s go to the hospital,” Bree said encouragingly. “I can just stay in the car.”
“You’re not staying in the car, Aubrey.”
”Well, you”re not going to take an extra two hours—or more—to get to the hospital if you need to be there. I”m a big girl, Noah. I can handle a trip to the hospital.” Boy, was that the understatement of the century. Not that Noah knew she frequently spent time hanging out at the hospital.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Bree said firmly. “Family is important, and no one…no one should be in the hospital alone.”
Noah squeezed Bree’s hand and returned his arm to the console. Bree blushed, having forgotten her hand was on his arm, and drew it back to her side of the car.
“Is there anything special she likes? A milkshake, or flowers, or something we could bring?” Bree asked. “When my—” She sighed. Now was not the time to go into the whole situation with her and Jessica.
“Some people like to bring flowers or food when they visit loved ones.” She said instead.
“That’s a great idea,” Noah said.
After twenty minutes and a quick detour for a chocolate shake, they finally arrived at the hospital. Bree’s anxiety rose, but she tried to smile reassuringly at Noah anyway as they unbuckled their seatbelts.
“Wait for me,” Noah said, distraction and concern evident in his tone as he walked around the car, his head still on a swivel around the parking lot. He must’ve decided the coast was clear because he opened Bree’s door and offered her a hand as she exited the vehicle. She took his hand and he held on to it for a moment as though it brought him comfort and anchored him.
Bree gave his hand a light squeeze, drawing his eyes to hers. “Let’s go find her, Noah,” Bree said, pulling her hand away from his.
“I don”t know where to go.” He admitted.
“I do.” She said simply, leading him into the main doors of the building. The tall windows created a bright, airy space and lacked the hospital smell that the longer-term care wards seemed to have. The furniture was white and there were accents of light blues and greens placed intentionally throughout the space. All in all, it created a warm, homey atmosphere for people who were going through some of the best—or worst—times of their lives. Bree walked confidently up to the front desk where the volunteer was sitting and smiled.
“Martin!” She said happily, walking around the counter to give the man a hug. At seventy-four years old, Martin Lewis was one of Bree’s favorite people at the hospital. His gray hair and blue eyes were full of the wisdom that came with age and a fire that was just his personality. He loved being helpful and had been volunteering at the hospital since his wife passed away a few years ago.
“Aubrey!” Martin replied jovially, giving Bree a tight hug and Noah a side-eye. “Is this your young man?” He asked, raising a brow.
Bree blushed. “No, he’s a friend.” She said quietly, not wanting to worry Martin with her current situation. “We actually need your help. We’re looking for a patient, and we’re not sure if she is in the ER still or if she’d been admitted to a room.”
“Are you family?” Martin asked, returning to his seat at the computer.
“Noah is. He is her emergency contact.”
“Name?”
“Noah Hawthorne.”
“Patient name?” Martin corrected gently, sympathy written on his weathered face.
“Mariela Garcia.” Noah croaked out. “She was brought into the ER a few hours ago by ambulance.” He added.
Martin typed on the computer. “She was admitted and is in room 271. Would you like help finding it?”
“I’ll get him up there. Thanks, Martin!”
“You’re welcome, honey. Glad you’re back! It’s been nice seeing your face more now that you’re not running amok.”
Bree laughed. “I was on tour…working.”
Martin waved a hand. “Pah. Same same. I’m glad you’re back now.”
Bree waved and turned to look at Noah. “We go this way.” She said, leading the way through the pseudo-living space toward the silver elevators.
“You seem pretty familiar with the hospital,” Noah said, after Bree greeted a few of the nurses walking through the hall.
“I am,” Bree replied.
“Why?”
Bree hesitated. She’d tell him about Jess—but not yet. She had spent so many hours of her life in the sterile walls of this hospital. She knew some of Jessica’s nurses better than she knew her own parents. How do you tell someone that? She didn’t want his pity. Besides, he had enough going on at the moment.
“I just do.” Bree led Noah around the final corner, coming to a stop outside of room 271. Noah looked at her for a lingering moment as though he was trying to see inside her mind and get the answer himself. When it was clear Bree wasn’t going to explain further, Noah shook his head and opened the door slowly, pasting a smile on his face that Bree could tell was less than genuine but full of concern.
The room had a small window, two blue chairs, and a lone bed filling the small space. Noah leaned against the door to hold it open, careful not to drop the milkshake in his hand, and nudged Bree gently to walk in ahead of him giving her a soft smile. He followed Bree into the space, closing the door softly behind them.
Bree looked over at the bed. The occupant was a small older woman who looked incredibly frail. Her salt and pepper hair was spread around her, her skin unnaturally pale under the harsh hospital lights. She had an IV and several cords coming away from her, monitoring her vital signs as she rested. Bree felt a squeeze in her chest, anxiety and concern warring within her for this woman she didn’t know but who clearly meant so much to Noah. Like Jess meant to her.
“Mrs. Garcia.” He greeted warmly, moving the chairs to the other side of the bed so they faced the door. “How are you?”
Mrs. Garcia narrowed her eyes, observing Noah and clocking Bree, who was standing behind him. “What are you doing here?” She asked.
“The hospital called when they couldn’t get ahold of Carlos,” Noah said.
Mrs. Garcia rolled her eyes. “Ay, I told them not to call anyone. I am fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Noah said petulantly.
“I know you didn’t just tell me that I don’t look good, Noah Hawthorne.” Mrs. Garcia said pointedly.
Bree chuckled, the small sound drawing their attention to her. Oops.
“Did you bring a young lady to meet me when I am in the hospital in one of these ridiculous gowns?” She asked, glaring at Noah.
“I plead the fifth,” Noah muttered. Mrs. Garcia raised an eyebrow. “But…” He said, lightening his tone. “I did bring you a treat.” He said, holding the chocolate milkshake toward her.
“Listen, mijo, what do I always tell you?”
“Proper nutrition is key to healing.” Mrs. Garcia and Noah said at the same time.
She smiled and patted his cheek as though he were a child.
“Exactly.” She said proudly. “But in this case, I’ll make an exception.” She winked at him and reached for the milkshake before looking back at Bree again. “What’s your name dear?”
“Aubrey,” Noah answered.
“The girl has a voice, Noah. Let her use it.” The woman said spunkily while giving Bree a small wink. “He’s a good one, mija. Don’t let him get away.” She whispered.
Then, loudly so Noah could hear—though Bree had the feeling he heard her attempt at whispering too if the slight blush on his cheeks and his facial expression was any indication—“The doctors are going to do surgery tomorrow, and then I’ll be doing some rehab before I can go home, but then I’ll be good as new.”
Noah smiled at her indulgently. “You’ll be back to running a tight ship in no time. I would like to speak with the doctor, though, if you don’t mind. Has he come by yet?”
Bree smiled as the two of them bantered back and forth. This softer version of Noah—the one who cared so deeply for his loved ones—tugged on her heart in a way she hadn’t expected. Maybe Noah—even with all his bossiness—wasn’t so bad after all.
“He has, but his nurse should be able to fill you in.” Mrs. Garcia said, her eyes full of love and pride as she watched Noah. “She’s probably at the nurse’s station.”
Noah nodded and looked at Bree. “Will you be okay if I step out for a moment?”
“The girl is fine, mijo. Go.” She said, waving him off with her hand.
Noah nodded at Mrs. Garcia, but looked at Bree and waited until she gave him a small smile and nod. He looked relieved as he ducked out to find the nurse.
Mrs. Garcia threw her hands in the air. “You’d think I taught the boy nothing…” she muttered. “Now, my Noah has never brought home a girl before. What exactly are your intentions?”
Bree’s heart stuttered. “I’m sorry, my intentions?”
“Yes. Are you dating him? Marrying him?”
“I’m actually just a client,” Bree said quietly. “We were out running some errands when we got the call from Theo.”
“Hmm. Well, you should see about fixing that. My Noah is a wonderful young man. Thoughtful, considerate, hard-working. You won’t find a better husband.”
Bree nearly choked. “I—”
She was saved from answering that particular line of questioning as Noah walked back in. He looked between Bree and Mrs. Garcia and seemed to note the slight tension in the room. He raised an eyebrow and walked over to Bree purposefully, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“You okay?” He whispered quietly.
Bree nodded, a light blush spreading across her cheeks as Mrs. Garcia pinned her with a look that clearly said I told you so.
“The nurse gave me the information for your surgery. I’ll be here.” He said.
“You don’t need to—”
“Not an option. I’ll be here.” He said, walking over to the bed to give Mrs. Garcia a hug. “I love you—I’ll be back tomorrow. And you can come stay at my house after if you don’t want to rehab at the facility.”
“Psh. I’m going to rehab at the facility and return to my home. Thank you for the offer though, mijo. I love you too.” She said, patting him lightly on the cheek.
Noah turned to Bree, “Ready to go?” He asked.
She nodded. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Garcia. I hope your surgery goes well.”
“Thank you, mija. Remember what we talked about.” She said with a pointed stare.
“What did you talk about?” Noah asked as a blush stole over Bree’s cheeks.
“Just girl stuff, Noah. Don’t pester the girl. Now, you two get going so I can get some sleep.” Mrs. Garcia said, waving Noah and Bree out the door.
Noah grinned, but took the hint and led them out the door into the hallway.
“Sorry about that,” Noah said sheepishly. “Mrs. Garcia has been my neighbor almost my whole life. She lived in the trailer next door growing up and lives down the street from me now. She practically raised me when Mom had to work.”
“Don’t apologize!” Bree told him quickly. That woman was a firecracker, and Bree loved her already. “She’s the best. I would’ve loved to have someone like that growing up. I think I’d like to be her when I grow up. Broken hip notwithstanding.” Bree’s heart ached at how true that statement was. Her own mother had spent most of the time absent. She was always either working or focusing on keeping Jess out of trouble. She didn’t have much time for Bree.
“Don’t let her fool you. She’s mellowed with age.” Noah said, cracking a large grin. “Come on, let’s get you and your groceries back to your house.”